Shadow Play (28 page)

“Trouble?” Margaret asked.

“Some.” Eve started the car. “Nothing we can't work out. At any rate, I can't think of it now. Do me a favor and call Nalchek and have him pave the way with the school administration before we get there.” She looked down at the GPS. “We should get there before school is out. I'll go to the administration office and see what information I can gather before I speak to Cara.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Margaret said. “Not a bad start for a day. I'm excited.” She smiled. “We thought that we were going to find out so much from the reconstruction article but it turned out differently. You can never tell, can you?”

“No, you can't,” Eve said. “But I'll take it.”

She could still see that little girl in the photo. Jenny, but alive and well and not threatened by monsters. No, not Jenny. She kept thinking of that little girl who had exploded into her mind and life, but this was another child.

Cara, who was almost certainly Jenny's kin.

Cara, who loved music as much as Jenny.

Cara, who was also threatened by monsters.

 

CHAPTER

13

“Cara Delaney.” Mrs. Karpel looked down at the transcript on her desk. “Eleven years old. Her parents were killed in an automobile accident, and she's in the custody of her aunt, Elena Delaney.”

“How long has she attended this school?” Eve asked.

“Two years. She transferred from Fresno Elementary.”

“Any problems with attendance or grades?”

“No, she's a good student and always obeys the rules. In the entire two years she's been with us, she's had only one absence, and she brought a doctor's excuse.”

“We saw a photo of her in the choir. Did she belong to any other groups?”

“Just the band. She's an amazing violinist. Mr. Donavan, the band director, wanted to give her a solo in the spring festival, but her aunt refused to sign the permission slip.”

“Have you had any contact with her aunt?”

She shook her head. “But that's not unusual. The school is overcrowded, and unless the student causes a disturbance, there isn't a lot of reaching out from the teachers. There just isn't time. Sad, but true.” She tilted her head. “What's all this about? Is Cara in trouble?”

“I hope not,” Eve said. “But I'd like to have her aunt's address and phone number. And I'd like to talk to Cara before she leaves school today.”

“Certainly. Elena Delaney works as a waitress at a local Waffle House, and I'll give you her work number, too.” The administrator was already writing out the information. “I'll have Cara paged to come to the office.” She tore off a Post-it with Cara's name, got up, and moved toward the front desk.

“No photos. No problems that would draw attention,” Margaret said.

Eve nodded. “Cara faded into the background. And her aunt Elena appears to also be very elusive. I definitely have to speak to that aunt.”

“I'm sorry.” The administrator was back. “Cara became ill in her English class this morning and ran out of the room.” She was frowning. “I spoke too soon about her obeying the rules. She should have reported to the nurse's office, but evidently she called her aunt to pick her up instead.”

Eve tensed. “Evidently?”

“Her aunt didn't answer her phone when Cara's advisor tried to call her. But Cara's friend, Heather Smallwood, saw her aunt waiting outside the school. She must have picked her up without checking her out.” Her lips tightened. “I'll have to have a talk with Elena Delaney.”

“And so will I.” Eve got to her feet. “Thank you for your help. If you hear from Cara or her aunt, I'd appreciate your contacting me.”

“Of course. I'll get in touch the first minute I know anything. This is very disturbing.”

More disturbing than she knew, Eve thought grimly as they left the building.

“We're going to her apartment?” Margaret asked.

“Right. I don't like the fact that on the morning that photo was published, Cara got suddenly sick, and her aunt decided to whisk her out of school. I think that Elena Delaney knew that the little girl was targeted, and they were hiding out. That photo of the reconstruction was a red flag that made her panic.”

“And you're afraid she'll take Cara on the run?”

“It's possible. I knew that there might be a response from publishing that photo. I hoped it would be positive.” She got into the driver's seat. “But, yes, we're definitely going to her apartment and see what we can find out.”

They were only a few blocks from the apartment when Eve's phone rang. Terry Brandell. She put the call on speaker. “Hello, Terry. Do you have something for me?”

“Yes, I got a phone call regarding the reconstruction,” Terry Brandell said when she picked up. “Nothing very promising. It was from a young girl who said she went to school with a girl who resembled that sculpture. She was all excited at the thought of being part of the case. She kept asking about a reward or her picture in the paper if she could get the family to acknowledge that the dead girl was a relation.”

“And this schoolgirl's name?”

“Heather Smallwood. She lives in the same apartment building. I told you it wasn't very promising. The only reason I told you was because you asked me to pay attention to any calls from Carmel.”

“You're wrong, it's promising,” Eve said. “Thanks for calling, I'll get back to you.” She hung up. “It seems that Heather Smallwood had reason to be on the lookout for Cara's Aunt Elena. She was looking for a payoff.” She pulled to the curb in front of the apartment building. “And all signs are pointing to Cara Delaney. Let's go find her.”

*   *   *

Elena's hands tightened on the steering wheel as she gave another nervous glance at her rearview mirror.

The tan Toyota was still following her.

And he was no longer trying to hide the fact. When she had pulled away from the school without picking up Cara, any hint of subtlety had ended.

There had been a change, a boldness, a determination in the way he had resumed tailing her. He was not about to let her get out of his sight.

But she
had
to get out of his sight, she thought desperately. She had to get to Cara. She had promised she would take care of her. She couldn't leave her alone and at the mercy of the people who had killed her sister.

She might even have to go to the police.

No! She knew better; she had been warned all her life that she mustn't ever go to the police. Cara wasn't the only one in danger. She loved her, but Elena's own family could be slaughtered if she disobeyed the rules.

So find a way to lose him.

And if she couldn't do that, lead him as far away from Cara as she could …

*   *   *

“Elena Delaney quit her job, picked up her paycheck and her niece, Cara, and hit the road,” Eve said in frustration when she called Joe two hours later. “And it can't be a coincidence. Cara has to be Walsh's target. We're at their apartment now, and we've been looking around for anything that might give us a clue as to where she might be going. I talked to Cara's friend, Heather, when she came home from school, and she said that Cara hadn't mentioned going anywhere today. They might be friends, but not close enough for Cara to confide in her. She did say that Cara was very quiet when she got on the school bus this morning. But Cara didn't ever talk much. It wasn't until Heather was in her current-events class this morning that she saw the reconstruction on TV and got all excited.” She shook her head. “That's why she was on the lookout for Cara. She wanted to talk to her about it. She's very disappointed.”

“And she saw Cara get into her aunt's car?”

“No, she had to go to her next class. But she recognized her car, a dark blue Camaro.” She paused. “Can we find it?”

“If she doesn't get rid of the car and buy a new one. Give the license number to Nalchek.”

“You can't do it?”

“I'm a little busy right now. Give it to Nalchek.”

She was silent. “Okay. I don't believe she would have gotten rid of the car. Nalchek arranged for me to look through the apartment. Obviously, very limited means, and you don't usually have ready cash if you're a waitress at Waffle House.”

“Nalchek is local, and he might get a faster response.” He paused. “If you don't think he's dirty. Evidently, you must have some faith in him. You seem to be using him quite a bit today.”

“I don't know either way. I can't put credence in Margaret's take on him when even she's not certain. It just seemed involving him was the easiest way to get things done.”

“Since I'm obviously out of the action.” His voice was without expression.

“Even if you weren't. You said you were going to use him, too.”

“And so I will.” He added mockingly, “But that doesn't mean that I don't intend to construct a few scenarios that would fit into Margaret's view of our bold sheriff. After all, I have to keep myself busy.”

As long as it was at the hospital. “By all means, construct away. I'll call you if I hear anything else.” She hung up.

“Do I detect trouble in paradise?” Margaret murmured.

“No. Paradise? Joe and I have never had an idyllic relationship. It's much too real.”

“It seemed pretty close to it to me,” Margaret said. “I was with him when he was trying to find you after you were kidnapped. I would have settled for someone's loving me like that.” She shrugged. “But what do I know? I've never really had a relationship, period. Sometimes it seems very confusing when applied to me. Like Nalchek said, I'm a little too weird for a normal relationship.”

“Did he say that?”

“Or words to that effect. He was a little upset with me at the time.” She changed the subject. “But I'm sorry that Joe is upset with you.”

“He'll have to get over it. He can't have everything his own way.” She looked around the apartment. “Did you find anything else that might give us a lead?”

“A few things. Not much. It looks as if they left in a hurry, and Elena just threw things in suitcases and took off.” She held up two yellow tickets. “Two expired bus passes. One adult, one child.” She handed Eve a small, tan book. “And this. It was in the drawer of the bureau. I think you'll find it interesting.”

Eve slowly took the book and opened it. Two photos, faded with time. Two little girls, both evidently sisters with those very familiar features. Dressed in shorts and T-shirts, their dark hair wind-tousled. They were smiling at each other: love, closeness, warmth.… “Jenny and Cara,” she said softly.

Margaret nodded. “It looks as if the photo was taken on board a ship. Blue sky. Blue sea…”

“But where?” She looked on the back. “Not a professional shot. Maybe if Joe sends it to the FBI, we might be able to find out. They know all kinds of technical tricks.”

“We can try.” She studied the bus pass. “It's a local pass. West route. Why would she have a bus pass there when her job is here in the southeast?”

“We'll have to find out,” Margaret said. “Are you ready to get out of here? I don't like this place.”

Eve could see what she was talking about. The apartment was neat and clean, and there were even rose and yellow colors in the pillows on the couch. But it was too neat, like a hotel room instead of a home, and there was a coolness about it. It looked … temporary.

“Yes, I'm ready.” She turned toward the door. “I need to get hold of a city map, compare it to those expired bus passes, and see if I can see anything.” She grimaced. “But heaven knows, it would help if I knew what I was looking for.”

*   *   *

The bitch was scared out of her mind, Walsh thought with malicious satisfaction. Elena Delaney had tried three times to lose him in the past hour, and now she was going faster, trying to escape through sheer speed. She'd be lucky not to be pulled over by the highway patrol.

Would she be tempted to tell them she was being followed?

No, she knew what would happen to her family if she did. She would be polite, accept the ticket, then get back on the road. But that would give him his chance to catch up to her.

No matter what she did, he would eventually have her.

And after a short but very painful time for her, he would also have Cara.

*   *   *

Eve didn't call Joe again for another two hours. “I'm on my way back to San Francisco. Margaret and I went to the bus company and asked a boatload of questions but came up with zilch. The passes were paid for in cash and no one remembers Elena Delaney. It would have been too much to hope that she had a cozy conversation with the clerk about where she was going and why she needed a pass.”

“Sometimes it happens like that. Not often. Where does that bus go?”

“On the Pacific Highway, then into some of the subdivisions in the suburbs. I asked to talk to the bus driver who drives the route, but they had to check their records.” She added wearily, “And probably my credentials before they give me his telephone number. It's been a question of hurry up and wait all day. I'm not getting anything done. I thought I'd start again tomorrow morning.”

“You're being too hard on yourself. It's a suspicious world. You know that no one wants to give out information unless forced by authority.” He paused. “Sounds like you need a cop.”

“Joe.”

“Just a thought.”

“Not a good one. You have two more days.”

“Maybe.” He said, “In the meantime, I've been looking into Nalchek.”

Eve glanced at Margaret next to him. “Building scenarios?”

“It's hard to build any case against him. He was in Afghanistan when Jenny was killed. He came back over a year later and worked with his grandfather at his vineyard until his death. His father resigned as sheriff eighteen months later, and Nalchek ran for office himself and was elected by a sound majority.” He added, “No hint of corruption, and he won the Silver Star when he was in the service.”